


Hide and Seek

by DidiWednesday



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DidiWednesday/pseuds/DidiWednesday
Summary: They were always destined for this.Did you think things would be different just because they switched roles?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing I wrote vaguely inspired by Imogen Heap's "Hide and Seek." It's a pretty appropriate song for R76 when you get past the meme. Enjoy!

They were always destined for this.

_Gabriel is holding a gun. Just one. Not even one of his usual shot guns. Just a pistol. The kind they give to soldiers who usually wield something more heavy duty. The kind that only has six bullets but is quick to reload. Right now, Gabriel is holding a gun, holding it like how a person would usually hold a gun – one hand around the grip, the other cupping the bottom for support, but the thing is. The thing is, Gabriel hasn't had to hold a gun like this since he went through SEP, but he has to hold it like this now. It's the only way to keep his aim steady, to keep his hands from shaking._

Did you think things would be different just because they switched roles?

_Jack slowly stands. He watches Gabriel silently through one eye, the other already swelling shut from an earlier blow. In his hand is a piece of fabric, bright blue, from Gabriel's duster. He stares at it for a moment, just a moment, just long enough for Gabriel to wonder what he's thinking about. Then, he uses it to wipe the sweat off his brow, cheek, the back of his neck. He takes his time, even closes his good eye, and knows that every second he acts like Gabriel isn't a threat is going to piss the other man off all the more. When Gabriel finally snarls – no words, just a harsh animalistic noise – Jack tosses the scrap aside and bares his teeth in a bloody smile._

Gabriel is still who he is: brash, unapologetic, resolute.

_Gabriel squeezes the pistol harder until he can feel his own bones creak. He was planning on telling Jack to put his hands up, to just arrest him, and be done with it all. But after that shitty display, he finds himself taking a step forward instead._

_“What the fuck, Morrison?” he demands. Jack, that ass-kissing motherfucker, he just throws his head back and laughs like Reinhardt told one of his terrible dad jokes. But Reinhardt isn't here, and they are in the heart of Overwatch's Swiss headquarters, far from comfort of Gibraltar's cafeteria. Gabriel's blood rushes in his ears, and he grits his teeth hard, preparing to pull the triger._

_Then, in a softer voice that could almost be mistaken for a sob, he asks, “Why?”_

Jack is still who he is: idealistic, patriotic, amenable.

_Being a soldier is hard. After a while, your emotions just... turn off. Now, Jack has been a solider for a long, long time, and every time he thinks he's done, every time he's sure he's had all that he can take and all his overeager emotions are packed away in meticulously labeled mental boxes and sealed in a feelings-proof vault, Gabriel just barges the fuck in and fucks everything the fuck up again._

_“Why?” he hisses. He takes a few steps forward, briefly forgetting the gun until it's hefted at his chest again. He stops, hands curled into tight fists, nails biting into the fleshy bottom of his palms._

_“Last time I checked, and I fucking quote, 'You didn't give a damn why I did anything as long as I got the job done.'” The words are bitter on his tongue even as he says them. Gabriel flinches like he'd been hit._

_“Jack, I... That was...” Gabriel just barely lowers the gun, maybe a fraction of an inch. But it's enough._

Together, they are who they've always been: passionate but stubborn, faithful yet assumptive, and at their worst, arrogant and petty.

_Gabriel should've known better. Jack always had a knack for getting under his skin. He could do it when they barely knew each other at the beginning of the SEP. He could play him like a damn fiddle at the height of their relationship when they could barely keep their hands off each other, and he's doing it right now even though they haven't been alone in a room together in the past five years unless it was for a debriefing. And yet, Gabriel lowered the gun by a measly quarter for an inch, and now he's got an infuriated Jack all over him._

_Gabriel hits the grated floor hard. There's no doubt in his mind that there will be diamond bruises all over his back come morning. If he makes it to morning. Jack knocks the gun out of his hand with a lucky swipe, but instead of scrambling after it, he rears back and punches his face._

_“You selfish fuck!” Jack yells, spit flying from his mouth. “If you just fucking listened to me-” Gabriel grabs his wrist and wrenches them around, trying to gain the upper hand._

_“Listen to you? You talk all the time, but you never say. A damn. Thing!” He manages to get on top long enough to punch Jack once in the ribs before they're wrestling for control again. Jack jams his leg between them and kicks at his stomach, forcing Gabriel to let go._

_They stand there, feet from each. Jack holds one arm across his stomach. The cut on his forehead starts bleeding again. Gabriel's right cheek is a lumpy, purple mess. There are small cuts on his arms from where the grate dug in when he fell._

And the machinations that brought them to this point before are still in place.

_Gabriel is suddenly, inexorably tired. Just a bone deep exhaustion that his him putting his hands down and just staring at the other man. After all these fucking years, even wounded and literally caught in the middle of betrayal, Jack goddamn Morrison was still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Gazing at him, Gabriel allows him to take in his black covert ops uniform. He always hated the color on him. Black made him look even paler and sallow. Lately, he'd been thinking about how blue suited Jack much more. Blue like the color of his eyes. Hell, he'd look a lot better in a blue duster than someone else, that was for sure. How did they let things get like this?_

So they bring them here again.

_When Gabriel puts his hands down and relaxes his stance, Jack follows his lead. He has always followed his lead. He followed him into SEP, into the taskforce, into Overwatch. And now what? And for what? Looking at him now, at his downturned lips and the defeated slump of his shoulders, the man standing in front of him isn't Gabriel Reyes. It's Gabi. His Gabi. The man who led him fearlessly, successfully against the omnics. The man who would stay up till ass in the morning just to hear his voice from the other side of the world. The man who called him his “sol” and “cariño.” How did they end up like this?_

They were always destined for this.

_The grate groans suddenly and buckles to one side, causing both men to slam into the railing. Jack is on the lower end. Below him, he can already some kind of explosion rising up. It will get to them soon._

_Jack looks up._

_Gabriel is reaching out as far as he can towards him._

_He reaches up even though he knows, he knows, there's nothing they can do anymore._

_“Gabe?”_

_“Jack?”_

Heat.

Then pain.

Then nothing.

~~You only meant well? Of course you did.~~

 


End file.
